


Darkest Hour

by Corvid_ink



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Light Angst, M/M, Night Terrors, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, does this count as h/c?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 21:58:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16416740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvid_ink/pseuds/Corvid_ink
Summary: Ever since that fateful night over ten years ago, Hanzo has had chronic insomnia and frequent crashes. He deals with it the way he always has, but one night he's surprised to learn that he's not the only one whose sleep is disturbed by past demons.





	Darkest Hour

Nothing in the world quite matches the deep silence of the early hours of the morning. There’s a certain stillness in the hours before the sun is due to come up, especially deep in the country. No cars, no shouts from people outside, so birds singing or dogs barking. The only sounds come from the distant hum of electronics, the occasional creaks and groans of settling wood, and the steady thump of your own heartbeat. 

Hanzo was well acquainted with this particular brand of silence. He had spent many nights lying sleepless in bed until the early morning chirps broke his vigil, and he would attempt to meditate to make up for the tiredness in his bones. It worked like clockwork. He would spend five days operating off of little more than meditation, the bitter dregs of morning tea, and sheer obstinate willpower, and on the sixth he would collapse and sleep dreamlessly for fourteen hours straight, regardless of his own preference. The cycle continued every week for ten years, and he would be lying if he said he’d gotten used to it during that time. 

It was just as well, really. Ever since the night he killed his brother sleep never came easily to him. First it was nightmares, plaguing his attempts at getting peaceful rest with images of blood on unrelenting steel and the anguished screams of betrayal. He would wake up in a cold sweat and make a beeline for the scene of the crime, only to find nothing but polished hardwood floors and a banner permanently marked by that day. 

After a few weeks of this, he gave up on trying. Every time he closed his eyes he would be haunted by his brother’s spirit (even years after he discovered that Genji had been alive all this time), so he would simply stare at the ceiling and count the seconds until morning came. 

He was no stranger to insomnia by now. If anything he found something peaceful in the way the world went completely still for a few precious hours. He was so used to spending these moments alone, counting heartbeats to a nonexistent rhythm in the night. 

But he wasn’t alone tonight. His usual silence was cut by the steady breathing of the man sleeping peacefully next to him. 

Hanzo looked down at McCree’s still form. This was the third day they spent together as partners and he still hadn’t adjusted to the thought of it. Hanzo had argued that it wouldn’t be worth it, that his burdens would be too much for the cowboy to bear, that McCree would know him – would really know him – and would want to run first chance he got. 

McCree, in turn, told him he was an idiot. 

There was something calming about the way McCree looked at him, now that they agreed to attempt to share a life together. Hanzo often avoided his gaze, almost terrified that he would see nothing but disgust in his eyes, confirming his doubts. Instead, whenever they finally did lock eyes, he only ever saw something warm and gentle among the fire. 

It was strange, and not entirely enough to quell his fears. But it was not entirely unwelcome, either. 

Regardless, Hanzo was at least glad that McCree never saw him during these late nights, when he was at his most shameful. Really he envied him for his ability to set his head on the pillow and be deep asleep within seconds. McCree always insisted that his past was just as dark, that he had just as many burdens, but Hanzo couldn’t believe it. How could he, if he could fall asleep so easily? 

The more he thought about it, the more he would rather be anywhere than in that bed. 

Taking great care not to disturb McCree’s sleep, Hanzo pulled himself from the covers and made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water. He had started doing this more often since he moved in with McCree. The dark part of his mind which preyed on his weaknesses flourished in the peace that evaded him and yet came so easily to his partner. It was easier to extricate himself from the moment, excusing himself for something he didn’t need an excuse for, when there was nobody awake to answer to. 

Still, the cold water pulled him from his reverie. He took a moment to ground himself – focussing on the taste of the water, the cold of the liquid against his dry lips, the sound of ice cubes clinking together and against the side of the glass every time he jostled the cup – and prepared himself to return to bed. 

He had only just put the glass back down on the kitchen counter when he heard McCree scream upstairs. 

He flinched at the sound, his blood going cold as a thousand scenarios flooded his mind. He raced upstairs, thinking of Talon operatives and old Shimada enemies and double agents in the newly reformed Overwatch. 

(He had searched the house for bugs days before they even talked about moving in together, and double checked every month or so. But there are so many other ways to get information. It would only be expected really, he should have been more careful– ) 

But when he finally got to their room, he found no mercenaries, armed or otherwise. Instead he saw McCree, wild-eyed and pressed into the corner, babbling nonsensically in his general direction. 

Hanzo stayed frozen to the spot, unsure of what to do. McCree had always been cocky and sure of himself, relaxed and focussed even in the heat of battle. What he saw before him was none of these things. Just a frightened man staring at shadows. 

It took a moment before Hanzo slowly made his way over. He didn’t want to startle him; Hanzo could easily defend himself if need be, but he still didn’t fancy being attacked by a trained ex-Black Ops operative in the middle of the night. Still, he couldn’t bear to see him like this. 

McCree jumped at Hanzo’s touch before seeming to recognize him and clinging to his nightshirt. “McCree,” Hanzo whispered, taking his hands. “What is wrong? Did something happen?” 

Hanzo didn’t get much of an answer. McCree answered him in low, drawling gibberish, seeming utterly confused as he looked around for an assailant that wasn’t there. Hanzo squeezed his hands, noticing how badly he was shaking. 

Finally he calmed down enough to answer something recognizable. McCree simply looked between Hanzo, the shadows, and back, before looking somewhere else sheepishly. “I… I dunno…” 

This wasn’t normal for him. Even when he was wrong McCree would try to justify it, determined to be in the right even about things he was wrong about. He was stubborn as an ass on the best of days, but for the first time he just looked unsure and embarrassed. 

Taking his hands, Hanzo led him back over to the bed. He was glad that they had agreed that McCree would no longer keep his revolver underneath his pillow at night while Hanzo was there with him. Two highly trained mercenaries was more than enough to thwart any break-ins without a gun, and Hanzo would rather not risk getting shot every morning when McCree would wake up and point it at the door out of habit. Hanzo couldn’t imagine what might have happened if McCree had been holding a gun in his crazed state. 

Whatever had just happened, it was dangerous. “McCree, look at me. What happened?” 

McCree looked pointedly away from Hanzo, his shoulders slumped forward. “I don’t– It was just a nightmare, Hanzo. Don’t worry about it.” 

Hanzo was well acquainted with nightmares. What he just saw was not the result of a nightmare. “Jesse, look at me.” 

Jesse looked at him in surprise. Hanzo hardly ever used his first name, even after they had solidified the nature of their relationship. 

Hanzo continued. “Tell me what happened. I was... worried about you.” 

There was a moment of silence in which Jesse simply worried his lip, debating his words. “It was just a bad dream… Sorta. Angie called ‘em night terrors. I used to have ‘em all the time in Blackwatch.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Hanzo noticed that the shaking had gone. “Maybe I still get ‘em. I don’t always remember them in the mornin’, and if no one tells me…” 

Hanzo stayed silent as he trailed off, thinking this over. “What were you dreaming about, if I may ask?” 

Jesse sighed and put his head in his hands. “I dunno, probably someone tryin’ to kill me. That’s what they usually are.” 

The silence stretched on for a few minutes after that. In this time Hanzo thought about what he said. Jesse had told him about his days in Blackwatch before, and he knew some things about his past, but it was the first time he really considered any of it. Jesse always seemed bright and cheerful when they were out together, but it occurred to him that perhaps he had to fight his own demons when all the distractions had gone. 

Hanzo had so many questions all of a sudden, but in the stillness of the moment none of them seemed appropriate. 

“Well… I am here. I won’t allow anyone to harm you.” Hanzo wasn’t used to affection or reassurances, but damn if he wasn’t going to try. Jesse deserved that much. 

Jesse smiled warmly, making Hanzo’s heart skip a beat in spite of himself. “I know, darlin’. I appreciate it.” He yawned and stretched, shuffling back into his place in bed. “Why don’t we go back to sleep? Sorry if I woke you up.” 

Hanzo shook his head and settled in beside him. “Don’t worry about me. Go back to sleep.” 

Jesse sighed and closed his eyes, falling asleep almost instantly beside him. 

He always looked so peaceful when he slept. It was hard for Hanzo to believe that mere moments ago he was wide awake and panicking. 

Hanzo sighed and sat up to resume his nightly vigil, only to notice that Jesse’s hand was still interlaced with his own. 

Over the past few years, Jesse had almost made it his personal mission to make Hanzo smile whenever he could. Somehow, he even managed to do it in his sleep. 

Not wanting to disturb him again, Hanzo settled right back down beside Jesse. He hadn’t attempted to sleep on his own in nearly thirteen years, but with Jesse sound asleep right next to him, holding his hand in a comforting embrace, Hanzo decided that it was worth it to try again. 

He closed his eyes as a gentle rain started a lulling drone just outside their window, and for the first time in a very long time, Hanzo fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> The boys have sleep disorders cause I have sleep disorders. This is a p simple one shot I've been sitting on for over a year and finally got around to posting. If you have any questions about crashes or night terrors feel free to ask!


End file.
